Star Trek: Deep Space Sentinel
by ripplestone
Summary: After the USS Enterprise discovers a stable wormhole to an alternate universe, a new space station is built to stand guard, these are the ongoing adventures of Deep Space Sentinel.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue: Introducing Deep Space Sentinel

While James T Kirk and his crew are out in the far reaches of the universe, testing the new USS Enterprise to see if it is ready for commission, a technologically advanced Klingon Bird-of-Prey uncloaks before them. The Klingon warlord, in a show of menacing bravado, throws the gauntlet down for a race to see who has the better ship, the prize being ownership of the Enterprise when he wins. When asked what would be the prize if Kirk wins, the reply is both unexpected and shocking. The life of Ambassador Katherine Janeway, being held hostage by the Klingon onboard their ship.

Despite protestations from his crew, Kirk breaks with all Starfleet protocols and takes on the challenge, intrigued by this new alien people, and the two ships plunge headlong into a galactic chase of terrifying skill, a planet surfing, comet dodging, nebula splitting, roller-coaster of a ride. When the Bird-of-Prey cloaks and disappears, it takes the all the crew's skills to track it and follow it at warp speed into an area beyond the known star maps. When they drop out of warp, they find themselves in the middle of a war zone, a galaxy ripped apart and dying and the Bird-of-Prey waiting for them.

Ambassador Janeway, explains how the Klingon, a proud people, are dying at the hands of some unknown enemy but refuse to surrender their independence to Starfleet Command and the federation. She had been working to maintain a dialogue with the nation when a space rift opened and an unprovoked enemy attacked, ripping the galaxy apart without warning. They are in dire need of evacuation and she and the Klingon warlord had concocted the race in an effort to lure the Enterprise to the Klingon home worlds to help.

In view of the appalling devastation, the McCoy and the crew waste no time in organising a galactic evacuation, using a fleet of rescue shuttles from the Enterprise. Meanwhile the Enterprise and the Klingon Bird-of-Prey, with only a handful of crew on each, travel to the space rift in order try and evaluate this new enemy which has remained hidden in another universe. Unintentionally drawn through the rift, the two ships suddenly find themselves facing a foe beyond their worst nightmares. The whole of the universe is at risk of assimilation and all that stands between it and the space rift is the Enterprise and a Bird-of-Prey...

During all this Spock has been working on his own theory, since the death of Ambassador Spock and the close proximity of himself to himself, he believes it has caused an anomaly at a sub-atomic level in the laws of physics which keep multiple universes separate. He believes this new enemy has calculated a way to predict, model and exploit this anomaly, to create the space rift and manipulate information from its own universe to unduly influence them. He has researched Starfleet data bases and there is no reference to a Katherine Janeway, ambassador or otherwise. Which leads him to conclude she and the Klingons must exist in this alternate universe.

As the subterfuge is revealed, Kirk has to acknowledge his hasty actions and pride have put his ship and his crew aboard the shuttles in mortal danger as the remnants of the Klingon nation revert to their true form and having divided them, now try to conquer and assimilate them to turn the Enterprise and its crew aboard the shuttles into a Trojan horse they can use to move freely around this new universe. Faced with the prospect of the Enterprise falling into enemy hands, Kirk orders his crew to return and fight till there seems no other option than to self-destruct the ship and themselves in the rift in an effort the explosion will close the rift and save their own universe.

Just in the last few moments U'hura picks up a faint, coded message in an unknown language from deep within this alternate galaxy. She broadcasts ship wide and on all frequencies in the hopes either someone can translate it onboard or it acts as a distress beacon in space. It is a computer virus and it crashes all the ship's systems, including life support and the self-destruct sequence on board the Enterprise but also, more importantly, it destroys the enemy. The crew of the Enterprise have defeated them but now lie 'dead in the water' themselves and the space rift, now without the alien technology keeping it open, starts to close...

As the air supplies dwindle, Scotty, McCoy and Spock try to workout a way to save the crew by cryo-engineering a deck for stasis but the task is too complicated in the time left, meanwhile Kirk, and the flight deck crew try and work out a way to contact whoever sent the complex, coded message. When all hope is lost and they are all beginning to loose consciousness a vision appears to them all, an intense bright light which changes into some kind of angelic, alien, figure filling the empty space around them. Then a tunnel, a bright tunnel of light seems to appear and the Enterprise travels towards it. Then the crew fall into a low temperature, low oxygen coma, close to drowning, as the best hope of survival at the hands of Scotty, McCoy and Spock. They drift through the tunnel of light and into the unknown beyond.

A few weeks later, a search ship picks up the distress beacon of the USS Enterprise, and finds her seemingly drifting dead in space, near the entrance to a stable wormhole in an uncharted area of the universe. The crew is rescued and slowly revived and rehabilitated at the nearest federation space station. Kirk and his crew, while being debriefed, learn that the collapse of the space rift resulted in the creation of a stable wormhole to the alternate galaxy which must have pulled their ship back through to safety and plans were underway to create a portal station to strictly control access to and from this new universe. The station is to be named Deep Space Sentinel. There has already been diplomatic contact with people from the alternate universe and a celebration in honour of the Enterprise crew and the new diplomatic envoys has been organised.

The crew of the Enterprise discuss whether they should mention the shared vision of the 'angel' but all decide it was simply a result of oxygen deprivation. As Kirk steps forward to meet the new envoys he is in for a shock, it is none other than Ambassador Katherine Janeway and a team comprising of Klingon, Romulan and a Borg. Although he recognises Janeway, it is clear from her actions they have never met but she does reveal it was they who broadcast the computer virus on a subspace frequency as a precaution against an old foe.

Kirk is offered the post of Commander at Deep Space Sentinel but he declines, deciding instead to remain with his ship and his loyal crew as they set off to chart still unexplored sectors of the universe and make first contact with new forms of existence, in fact, to boldly go...


	2. Chapter 2

**Numbers**

Mixie takes a deep breath, smooths her whiskers and steps on board the shuttle. It is the first step on the journey to her new life. Standing at just over one and half meters, she is tall for a Volelian but the other passengers crammed into the shuttle still tower over her. She slings her toolkit roll over her shoulder and squeezes through the crowd to a quiet corner where she can perch, half hidden by a bulkhead and survey the rest of the passengers.

Half are Starfleet crew, half are civilians. All are on the early shuttle to Deep Space Sentinel, the new space station on the other side of the wormhole. A different universe. She marvels at the thought of it, a new everything. New place, new peoples, new technologies... Her thoughts are interrupted by an altercation breaking out farther down the shuttle.

'Hey, robot boy! Where's your leg!' Two burly construction workers, drawn by the lure of fast money to be made on the space station have noticed a Borg in a junior ranking Starfleet uniform. The Borg is doing his best not to draw attention to itself but the workers are already drunk on expectation and spoiling for a fight. A Borg made an easy target. Mixie shudders inside, trying to work out if she's the highest ranking officer on board. She will have to step in if it gets ugly. She unrolls her toolkit and removes a electronic pulse pen. Not much of a weapon but it would have to do.

'Whats your name, tin can?' The two thugs laugh unpleasantly.

'My name is 101100100011101001' The hapless Borg replies, trying to placate them.

'Numbers! His name is _Numbers_!' One of the thugs heartlessly kicks the Borg's metal prosthetic leg while the other jabs a finger at the Borg's Starfleet insignia. 'What's a robot doing in Starfleet, your lot nearly wiped us out. You should all be...' But before he can finish Mixie slips through the crowd and jabs the bully on the buttock with her pulse pen. He howls in rage and swings round to face her.

'Enough! Pick on someone your own size, you are only picking on him because you know Borg are programmed not to fight back.'

The two construction workers tower over Mixie but for some reason they hold back, a flicker of concern in their eyes.

'That's right, _I'm_ Starfleet too, Chief Engineer on the station you're heading to. Your crew bosses report directly to me and I'm guessing you won't like working on the sanitation drains and waste recycling vats for the next month unless you sit down and shut up, _now_!'

Much to Mixie's surprise the two thugs blink and mumble but quietly creep away from her and the Borg. She can feel all eyes in the shuttle staring at her and... no, not at her, behind her and she turns to find herself staring at two, very tall, very menacing security officers. One, a Klingon, is resplendent in her official fighting weaponry, her civilian cloak thrown over one shoulder to reveal intricately patterned mek'leth blades at her hip. Mixie had thought she was a civilian when she boarded the shuttle, wrapped in a cloak and hood, but her insignia shows her to be a Starfleet officer. The other is a Mistral, he is poised, eagle-like, ready to strike with a silver ion-whip coiled in one hand, his long eyebrow wire feathers quivering with fierce concentration. He too, is an officer.

As she stares up at them, a thought occurs to her, clearly the thugs had been intimidated by the two officers but she outranks them, just. 'Thank you but I seem to have this under control.' She grins at them and motions for the passenger next to the Borg to move up and she sits down.

The two officers glance at each other, shrug their shoulders and head back to their seats as the the doors close and seal tight and the shuttle starts its journey into the wormhole.

'So, this your first assignment, Cadet?' Mixie smiles kindly at the young Borg.

'Yes, Mam.'

'Well, you'll find life on a Space Station very different from the Academy but don't worry, bullies like those thugs usually don't last long in deep space, makes them feel really small. Call me Chief, Mam makes me sound old!'

'Yes Mam...Chief.'

'So, your name. Is there a shorter version?'

'182505 is the decimal version.'

'OK. 182505 it is. Where will you be working, 1820505? Engineering?' Mixie crosses her fingers, hoping the answer is no as this Borg seems to be particularly unimpressed by her attempts at conservation.

'It is182505. No extra zero. I will be working in computational space sector mapping.'

'Good! Good, sounds very exciting. I'm sorry, about your name. I'm not very good with names.'

'It is OK, they are right. They are just numbers.'

Mixies sighs, clearly this is going to be a long, long shuttle journey.

Commander Edgar Lancelot Pierce stands patiently at the security gates for the next shuttle due from the alternate universe. On board is a very important person who would be crucial to the functioning of the station, not to mention the obvious diplomatic importance. He adjusts the collar on his uniform and squares his shoulders, catching sight of the grizzled grey at his temples in a nearby reflection and sighs, this command post on DS Sentinel had come late in his career. Footsteps behind him remind him of the time and he turns to find the station's chief medical officer, Dr. David 'Darwin' Jones and Pierce's second-in-command protocol officer, a Romulan named Swayla T'Vayne.

'Good Morning Commander, I have your welcome speech here, you had left it in on your desk.'

'Thank you Swayla, I was hoping to make this a little less formal, it being before breakfast.'

'But Commander, this is of the utmost diplomatic importance, plus we have the guard of honour to welcome as well.'

'Ah, yes. Remind me of their names again?' Inwardly Pierce groans at the thought of a round of protracted diplomatic greetings and all before breakfast.

'We have Peator, pronounced 'Petor', a Mistral of high rank. One of the few who have mastered all twelve of their sacred martial arts and Worwynd, pronounced 'Waarrind', a Klingon, apparently a high ranking one, she's a decorated warrior.'

Paice glances at Swayla wondering if the slight sour tone in her voice is a tinge of jealousy or something deeper, a hint of the past hatred between the Klingon and Romulan cultures. Swayla was openly ambitious and he knew she saw being posted out here in the unknown ends of the universe as beneath her abilities.

'Well, before you two get carried away with your speeches, there is a certain amount of medical checks to run on the new arrivals and there's another outbreak of space flu in the civilian plaza so everyone is going to have to have a flu jab, including you two.' Jones retrieves a injectapen from his pocket and before either can argue, inoculates them each in the arm just as the docking sirens sound and the shuttle arrives at Deep Space Sentinel.

Mixie is delighted to see they have all but rolled the red carpet out for her, she recognises the human Commander Pierce, his second-in-command, the Romulan T'Vayne and the medical officer Jones, another human, all waiting at the gates. As she hurries to meet them, she is swiftly outpaced by the two security guards from the shuttle, both flanking the Borg, 182505. As they head straight for the welcoming party, it occurs to Mixie the formal welcome is for them and not for her and she falters, unsure as to what to do, now clearly stuck in the middle of a diplomatic party that she actually isn't part of.

By the time she reaches the gate, painfully aware she should have exited at the Starfleet crew gates on the opposite side of the docking bay, she is in time to hear the Commander's welcoming speech.

'Welcome to Deep Space Sentinel, it is a great honour to have the esteemed designer of the station here, we greet you 1011001001..11...' But it is no good, the Commander, trips up over the Borg's name. 'I'm sorry, your name is very long...'

The Borg sighs and shakes his head. 'Just call me numbers, every one else does.'

'Numbers? Like a nickname? Very good... Numbers is it is. Welcome. And welcome to Peator, Mistral Master and Wor..Waarrind, warrior..um...' Pierce is interrupted by his stomach growling. 'And...who are you?' he notices Mixie loitering nearby and Swayla doing her best to try and shoo her away.

'I'm the new Chief Engineer, Mixie.. of Volelia, but I think I'm in the wrong place at the wrong time.. as usual.' Mixie is about to scurry through the gates when Dr. Jones stops her.

'Wait a minute, everyone gets a jab today. Space flu outbreak. No exceptions, whoever you are or wherever you are from.' And with that he jabs her in the arm with the injectapen.

'Ouch!' Mixie rubs her arm thinking the doctor enjoyed that a little too much.

'Watch out good doctor, this little one might jab you back!' laughs Peator as he extends an arm for his inoculation. Worwynd chuckles loudly at his joke.

Mixie smooths her whiskers, draws herself up to her full height, shoves Swayla out of her way and salutes the Commander formally. 'Commander, I shall be in Engineering if you need me.' And with that, scurries off in what she hopes is the right direction.

'Well! This is not protocol at all!' Swayla fumes. 'We still have not had the formal rendition of the Sentinel Song..'

'I think, Swayla,' says Pierce, cutting her short.'This ceremony is over. Our guest would like to be shown to their quarters and we could all do without hearing that infernal song, again! If you would all be so kind as to follow my second-in-command, she will show you the way.'

As watches them go his stomach rumbles again, so loudly Jones hears it. 'I prescribe some breakfast for that particular ailment.'

'Finally! Well, I think that went...'

'Disastrously?'

'I was going to say well..'

'Really?'

'OK, maybe a few glitches...' The two men laugh and head for the exit and hopefully, breakfast.


	3. Chapter 3

**Breakfast**

'So? What did you think?'

Jones pauses in meticulously cutting up the slice of protein-enriched algae cake, in an effort to try and make it look more like a normal breakfast and answers the Commander's question.

'I think I shall be glad when the kitchen gardens are up and running and we don't have to rely on this jelly muck any more.'

Pierce smiles at Jones' distress at the rations.

'I'm told the gardens are already producing salads and there are rumours of potatoes any day now!'

Jones groans at the thought, 'Now, you are teasing me. I guess you meant what did I think of our young Borg?'

'Yes,' the Commander drops his voice and continues. 'Starfleet command are still concerned he poses a potential risk as a way for the Borg to use him and gain a foothold in this universe.'

'I though the Borg had been defeated in the alternate universe as well?'

'Yes but fears about hidden programming, sleeper factions, crazy theories really, I had a whole top-secret debriefing on possible scenarios. This station wouldn't have been possible without his brilliant computational abilities but...I don't know. He just seems like a young kid to me.'

'I agree, he is physically young, I read up his medical files. Snatched as a baby in a Borg raid which obliterated the colony his family were on. Years of assimilation by the Borg to turn him into a cyborg beyond any of our own technical and medical advances, he then spent his teen years as the hive mind of a Borg fighting squadron. When he was finally rescued after the Borg defeat, he'd had his memory effectively wiped by them. He then had two years of reprogramming in the hands of the Federation before entering Starfleet Academy and graduating within a year after designing this place as his finals project. What he has endured in his nineteen short years of life..' Jones pauses and sighs shaking his head at the horror of it all. 'Physically young, mentally far too old for his years.'

'And his Borg technology?' Pierce sips a this coffee.

'It's all so integral, his cybernetics is way beyond anything we have. Self-repairing a lot of it. His prosthetic limb in far superior to our human ones. Medically he is as fit as a fiddle.'

'Starfleet Command are aware of the huge gulf in his emotional state. They hope, being out here, away from the pressures of the Academy, he'll have a chance to catch up, perhaps find a more human part of himself. He wasn't much liked by the other academy students, there's a lot of mistrust and hostility towards the Borg still.'

'Was that why he had the Guard of Honour, as protection?' The doctor remembers the two imposing Starfleet officers.

'Well, that and the hope he'll be a diplomatic envoy for new species arriving from the alternate universe. See how we can be tolerant towards all, even our enemies.' The Commander puts down his coffee and smiles ruefully as he spots Swayla T'Vayne heading towards them, weaving her way through the tables in the Starfleet refectory.

'Well, looks like breakfast is over and duty is about to call. I'd be grateful if you could keep an eye on Numbers for me. Just to make sure he settles in OK. '

'Sure, not a problem.' Jones gives up on the algae cake, no wonder the Commander's stomach had been rumbling so loudly earlier.

'Commander, I have been looking for you, it is time to meet the next shuttle. We must go!' Swayla smiles at Jones but he is never quite sure whether her smile is genuine and so simply nods in recognition back and watches as Swayla and Pierce head for the docking bay for the second time in as many hours.

Deep Space Sentinel's satellite hubs slowly revolve around its central dilithium-shielded power turbine which not only provides power but creates stable gravitational fields comparable to human tolerances. This unique design feature, having free floating habitation satellites around, in effect, a mini-star to create a Federation-made solar system was made possible due to the extraordinary computing power Numbers could harness with his Borg cybernetics. Being able to plot a century's worth of trajectories for each hub with exact precision, meant the station could function, in situ, without risk of collisions or near misses. The design also meant, if attacked, the station could fragment, the individual hubs could escape their orbits and turn into vast galactic cruisers, leaving only the power turbine to self-destruct on command.

Personal transporter identities allowed a series of inter-lifts to be programmed between all satellite hubs, allowing free movement around the space station. It is into one of these inter-lifts that Pierce and Swayla step, instantly transporting them to the main docking bay aboard one of the outer hubs and in time to greet another intake of Starfleet personnel for duty on Deep Space Sentinel.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sentinel**

Mixie squares her shoulders and draws herself up to her full height, knowing first impressions with her new team of engineers will be important, especially after the mix-up at the docking gates. As she steps into the inter-lift which will transport her to the engineering hub, she quickly crosses her fingers behind her back, perhaps a bit of Old Earth luck will help. She re-materialises in engineering but instead of a calm, smooth running, orderly hub, she steps into chaos, alarms ringing, people running and equipment clattering all around.

'What in the name Volelia of is going on!' she bellows, surprisingly loudly for such a small person, as she grabs a panicking crewman running past.

 _'There's been some kind of computer power surge which keeps tripping alarms, but we can't find the source and the Chief is due any minute!'_

'Power surge?... _Someone turn off that alarm_...I can barely hear myself think!' Mixie strides over to the control desk for the internal computerised systems for Sentinel.

'Sentinel, online?'

'Yes Sentinel online, what is your access level?' The calm, synthetic voice of the smart-net system, connecting all the hubs to engineering is at odds to the chaos around.

'Level Chief One.'

'Voice confirmed, welcome Chief.'

'Sentinel, where is the power surge in your systems?'

'There is no power surge in my systems, all systems are running optimally.'

Mixie glances at the power spikes registering all over the place, as though something is running through the whole of the station's computerised systems and an idea occurs to her.

'Sentinel, is there anyone else online?'

'At present, there are four hundred and seventy three authorised users online.'

'Any unauthorised?'

'One.'

'Sentinel, what is the unauthorised user accessing?'

'User is comparative scanning my systems for accuracy to original plans.'

Finally someone turns off the alarm and Mixie finds all eyes are on her as she talks to Sentinel.

She taps the intercom button on her uniform and requests a secure line to the Commander.

'Commander Pierce? This is the Chief, in engineering, we have a problem with the computer systems.'

'A problem?' Pierce replies into his intercom and moves away from the group of new Starfleet crewmen he is welcoming and indicates to the medical team to proceed with their space flu inoculations. 'Not something you can sort out?'

'The problem isn't in the system itself, I think someone has managed to hack into Sentinel and is triggering a series of power spikes as the system tries to protect itself. There's nothing we can do in engineering apart from closing the system down. Did you order anyone to run comparative scans?'

' _Comparative_ scans?'

'Yes.'

Pierce thinks for a moment and then replies. 'I think I know what the problem is, Chief. Don't shut the system down yet. I'll get onto it. Allow them access for now.'

Mixie sighs and returns to Sentinel.

'Sentinel, allow temporary access for unauthorised user and monitor _all_ their activity.'

'Yes Chief, temporary access request for unauthorised user allowed.'

Mixie turns to face the Engineering crew gathering around the control desk as the power spikes ease and the systems settle back down. 'Well, back to work, it's all under control now!'

Pierce takes an inter-lift to the personnel hub where the young Borg and his Guard of Honour have been housed. As he reaches their suite of cabins, he calls Swayla over the intercom.

'Swayla, can you carry on with the meet and greet, I have a situation I need to handle for an hour or two.' Pierce presses the entry button on the door and waits for a reply.

The door slides open and Pierce steps into the dimly lit cabin to find Numbers standing in the middle of the room, his eyes closed and arms folded. 'I'm going to have to ask you to stop your scans, Numbers.'

'Commander Pierce, I am merely checking the specifications of the Sentinel system for any errors.'

'You need an security access level beyond your current Starfleet grade for that. We did make some changes to the computer system, namely installing security protocols but you seem to have hacked straight through them all.'

Numbers opens his eyes and focuses on the Commander with a look of concern. 'I did not hack into Sentinel. I am simply talking to her, please understand, this was in no way a malicious attempt to hurt her.'

'Good. But the truth is, Sentinel has a space station to run and your... conversation is triggering power spikes as she tries to stop your unauthorised access. Please do not use Sentinel again without the proper access codes appropriate to your grade.'

'Of course Commander, I.. I just...'

'I know, it's going to be hard adjusting to life as a Starfleet ensign. I know you probably feel this station is, in some way, yours but for now, it's a case of everything by the regulations. Your abilities to access systems without clearance is just one of the things you will have to learn to control. Now, I was going to give you a day or two to orientate yourself but I get the feeling you know your way round already and I think it will be better for all of us if you start work immediately. I'll take you to your post and introduce you to your lieutenant.'

Pierce calls Engineering and asks Mixie to cancel the temporary access authorisation and then he and Numbers head for a satellite hub on a the outer edge of the station.

 **Maps**

Commander Pierce and Numbers find Lieutenant Elenah Mapletree deep in concentration pouring over an old scroll, spread out over one of the 3D computer mapping tables in the map room. The map room housed a copy of Starfleet's catalogue of planets, solar systems, galaxies and universal quadrant maps. A huge library of exploration spanning hundreds of years. With each new contact and discovery, more maps are added, new stars, new routes, new horizons.

Elenah Mapletree is a tall, willowy woman, with long, silvery hair caught back in a ponytail. As she realises she is not alone, she looks up and smiles warmly at the Commander, laughter lines creasing and spreading like a map of years across her face.

'Commander! Come in, come in! Now, this must be my new protégé. I remember this one as a cadet not much younger than you and look at him now! Pierce was one of my brightest students but he...'

'Mapletree, this is Numbers, I'm hoping you can put him to work right away as he is keen to keep busy.' Pierce interrupts Mapletree before she can start on a story about one of his escapades at the Academy which would not be at all appropriate at the moment.

'Well, I'm just cataloguing this Mistral scroll, a very nice Mistralian dropped it off not ten minutes ago... what was his name, Peator? Anyway, it charts an ancient route between the gas clouds of Mistralia hitherto unknown to Starfleet. See, now if you just call up the current 3D chart for this sector, that's right, filed in that directory...'

Pierce smiles as Mapletree's undying enthusiasm for all things to do with maps immediately captures Numbers attention and soon they are both absorbed in studying the minutiae of Mistral space charts and almost oblivious to his presence. He checks the time, the last shuttle of the morning would be arriving soon, if he was quick he'd there in time to greet it. Neither Mapletree or Numbers notice the Commander slip away as the unfolding wonders of the Mistralian Gas Clouds Formations spread out before them hovering in three dimensions above the mapping table and they start the painstaking computational conversion from the hand drawn scroll to a working star map, ready to be uploaded to the current Starfleet database.


	5. Chapter 5

**Squadron**

Peator picks up the pace as he makes his way across the hangar bay to the squadron of small spacecraft making up the station's security fleet. His craft, a Quill named ZeaDar (LightDart) is berthed next to Worwynd's finDuj, a sleek craft, similar in shape to a manta ray. Starfleet had transported their ships earlier to the station, freeing them to travel as an honour guard with Numbers on the shuttle, it is good to see it arrived safely. The Quill, sensing Peator approaching, wakes and shivers slightly, the plumage needles of its outer armour clattering together, part welcome, part warning. Peator places a hand against the Quill and it calms, waiting for its next command.

Worwynd shakes her head, there is something more than a little unnerving about the Mistral's ship. 'I wondered if you were going to make it for the security drill.'

'I had an errand to run. But I am here now.' Peator grins at Worwynd, picking up her nervousness around the Quill. 'Don't worry, it doesn't bite. Sting, yes, bite no!'

Worwynd watches as Peator is absorbed by his ship, she can think of no other way to describe it. Then she climbs aboard the finDuj, preferring the absolute certainty of Klingon engineering, 'Toj! He can keep his Mistral tricks, fast engines and photon torpedoes are better, nuH toj weh.'

Across the hangar bay a siren sounds and the first of the squadron spacecraft glide out to start formation training. ZeaDar skitters across the floor, almost skipping out into the blank canvas of space beyond as the finDuj follows, a dark shadow to the bright glittering armour of the Quill.

Worwynd and Peator practise formation drills with the squad for the next few hours, both glad to be free from the earlier formality of the day. As part of the security fleet, they would patrol and help defend the station, a perfect cover for their role as bodyguards for the young Borg.

Back on the Sentinel, Swayla glances at the time. The Commander should be on the bridge by now. Where was he? She drums her fingers nervously on the handrail in front of her. She is standing just behind the helm, waiting for him to arrive, the rest of the bridge crew trying hard not to notice her obvious agitation. Her scheduling had been very clear, after the welcoming of the shuttle crew it would be the flypast of the new security squadron and then the first full drill of the station resolve. Swayla had arranged for footage from the flypast and the bridge to be broadcast live across the station and Federation networks but it is looking like the Commander might miss it!

The interlift doors open and Commander Pierce steps onto the bridge, adjusting his uniform and running a hand over his grey hair. He almost jumps in surprise as the Bridge crew stand to attention and Swayla formally announces, 'Commander on the Bridge!' but regains his composure as he notices the film crew. He takes his seat a the helm and watches as the forward screen expands across the deck to fill the bridge with a view of the wormhole and the near space around Sentinel.

As they watch, the security fleet forms into a tight diamond pattern and sweeps across the screen, then circles and returns, this time with a barrel roll before scattering out into the distance.

'Shall I announce the Resolve, Commander?' Swayla whispers, aware of the slightly awkward pause in proceedings. It is clear the Commander has not read the schedule for the afternoon's events.

'Of course, Swayla, resolve away!' Pierce crosses his fingers hoping engineering is ready after the power spikes.

Swayla's smile is a sour as a lemon at the Commander's informal tone, had he no respect for the inaugural resolve of the space station, not to mention the billions of viewers watching around the Federation? She raises a hand and signals to the helm to send the signal to engineering and to every satellite hub to begin the resolve. Almost imperceptibly, the satellite hubs all begin to draw in closer to the central turbine in a precise ballet dictated by trajectory and speed. Then they interlock to form one giant sphere around the central core, protecting it and transforming the space station into a solid, planet-like structure, a floating fortress in space and if need be, able to move as a single ship, powered by the core, with the bridge in command of all the component hubs.

As the space station resolves into a sphere, the squadron sweeps back into view, performing a complicated, weaving flight close around the equator of Sentinel. This bravura performance of flying elicits a cheer through the station and Pierce smiles at Swayla who nods in acknowledgement of the successful manoeuvres while they both inwardly sigh with relief it all went to plan.

The squadron break free again and fly towards the wormhole, before turning for one last barrel roll past the bridge and then back to the hangar bay. As they reach the turn point, proximity alarms start ringing as the wormhole winks and begins to expand. Something unscheduled is coming through and, judging by the scale of it, whatever it is is gargantuan, the squadron have barely no time to move as the space in front of them begins to ripple and bend.

 _'Abort turn! Abort turn!'_

It is the last thing everyone on the Bridge, the station and the Federation audience hears from the squadron as the wormhole opens directly onto their flight path.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Entity**

Dr. David 'Darwin' Jones stands at the viewport in his consultation room, just off the general medi-care suite in the hospital hub. He had dispensed with his Star Fleet duties for the day and is taking a few minutes of quiet before starting his evening rounds of the civilian wards in the hospital. The Squadron flypast is quite a show-piece for the space station, although Jones could feel a small knot of trepidation tighten in his throat as the craft speed perilously close to the now spherical walls of Sentinel. The last thing he needed is to be dealing with is a spacecraft collision at close range of the station. He is about to turn back to his work when, without warning, the wormhole starts to open.

'What the!...' The exclamation of surprise dies on his lips as the wormhole opens and expands directly into the path of the Squadron and Jones can only look in horror as the space around them is instantly filled with an ever-growing cloud of... _stuff_. Jones cannot even begin to imagine what it is, as some enormous, amorphous, shifting mass of material engulfs the Squadron, seeming to ensnare and slow and then stop them mid-flight, before they disappear from view in its depths.

For a moment Jones is too surprised by what he has just witnessed to move and then, across Sentinel alarms start ringing. The cloud, or mass, or whatever the hell it is, is moving towards Sentinel and, without the Squadron, the space station is a sitting duck. The thought spurs him to action and he races from the window through to the nearest interlift and presses the button for the Bridge.

By the time he reaches the bridge the whole station is on full alert and he finds the Commander, Swayla T'Vayne and the bridge crew beginning to ready weapons and preparing the station for a full scale attack.

 _'Wait!'_ Jones shouts out the word over the sirens, without regard for the command chain or the film crew, who swivel in his direction without a pause in their filming as he rushes in. _'You can't fire on it! Whatever it is... those are our people in there! At least give them a chance to try and escape, Commander.'_

Pierce shakes his head and sighs, Jones is right, he raises a hand and shouts above the alarms, 'Belay that order. We will wait for the... this thing to attack first and someone, please, turn off those alarms!'

 _'But Commander, it will be upon us in a matter of minutes! We must fire first, we have the advantage!'_ Swayla brings a clenched fist down on the handrail, making the crewman in front of her jump.

'No, Swayla, Jones is right, they have our Squadron, it is they who have the advantage. We are will wait, weapons ready, for now.' The alarms cease and the whole of Sentinel seems to fall silent as the huge cloud moves inexorably towards them.

Worwynd tries as best she can to break free of the cloud engulfing finDuj but it is no good, no matter how she manoeuvres, the stuff keeps pulling her back into it. She can feel anger and frustration rising up as she fights to get her ship free, firing a volley of energy bursts into the cloud but they seem to have no effect except make the cloud thicker.

 _'Stop firing!'_ It is Peator's voice, presumably across the communications link. 'You are only making it worse _and_ likely to hit one of us. I am trying to bring ZeaDar closer to you. This cloud seems to use energy to make itself bigger. Can you get through to the Bridge on Sentinel?'

Worwynd grinds her teeth and tries to get control of her anger. 'I am not getting any response from them! It is as though the signal is bouncing back off... whatever this is! Can ZeaDar break free?' Worwynd wonders if the Quill can break through the cloud.

'No, but slow manoeuvring seems to be possible, can you see us yet?'

Worwynd peers through her viewfinder but nothing is visible through the entity, nothing is registering on any of her scanners. 'Nothing! I can't seem to contact the rest of the Squadron either, only our communicators seem to be working.'

'Don't worry, I'm in contact with them, I am slowly triangulating our positions and ZeaDar and I will shepherd us together. Perhaps as a group we can coordinate a way to get free.'

Numbers stares at the view screen, watching the cloud emerge through the wormhole. Beside him Elenah Mapletree whistles softly. 'What in this universe is it? A nebula of some kind?'

'No, no, not a nebula. An entity of some sort and it is growing. I am scanning the Borg data banks I have retained in my memory core to see if I can find a match. We should get to the Bridge. They will need my help if it attacks the station.'

Elenah is about to say how presumptuous to assume he would be needed on the Bridge but she catches herself in time. This young man in front of her designed the Sentinel. If anybody could help the Commander with defence strategy, it would be him. By the time they reach the Bridge, the alarms have been turned off and Sentinel slowly spins on its axis as the entity creeps closer, giving no sign of the Squadron within its mass.

Commander looks up as Numbers and Elenah join them on the Bridge. 'Good! Just the person I wanted to see, any ideas on what it is, Numbers?'

'I have found no match from my data banks but I have an idea about how the entity is growing.'

'Let's hear it then.' Pierce smiles encouragingly at the Borg as Numbers glances nervously at the film crew. 'There's no time to worry about them. We have... how long before this entity reaches us?'

'Three minutes and counting, if it keeps its present speed. Commander, we must fire while we still can!' Swayla tries her best to contain her annoyance at the Commander's refusal to fire first.

But Numbers interrupts her, 'No, it would only be to the entity's advantage. It is feeding on energy, I was able to map its size as it emerged from the wormhole and again once it had engulfed the Squadron. I compared the amount of kinetic energy the Squadron was producing to the expansion rate of the entity and, given they might well be firing energy bursts as well, it is growing and becoming more dense in exact correlation to the amount of energy it is absorbing. A bit like a protoplasm, it is changing from a liquid state to a solid. In fact, my initial computation is this entity is a single cell, somehow transformed by passage through the wormhole into this entity.

'A single living cell? From what kind if creature and how could it possibly survive through the wormhole?' Jones asks incredulously. 'If a protoplasm, without its cell wall, it is incredibly vulnerable, how is it holding together?' The doctor continues, almost to himself, his brain racing to keep up with Number's hypothesis.

'Like phosphorescence on a night sea.' Elenah announces, giving a description to the entity on the screen in front of her.

'Very poetic,' Swayla comments, ' But perhaps not helpful. How much kinetic energy is the station producing Commander? If, as Numbers has postulated, this protoplasm is devouring energy to grow we are surely about to be engulfed by it, like the Squadron.'

Commander Pierce wastes no time, and calls through to Engineering.

'Chief? We need to stop rotating!'

' _Stop rotating?_ You'll lose all gravity, Commander!'

' _But can you do it? Can you stop Sentinel before the entity reaches us?'_

Mixie can hear the urgency in the Commander's voice and replies. 'It can be done but, well, no gravity on a station this size, with no warning...'

'Then warn everyone and stop this station now! That's an order!' The Commander grips the side of his chair as the low gravity warnings start and he addresses the crew on deck. 'Prepare for no gravity, hold on to whatever you can and brace yourselves, time left till it reaches us?'

Swayla calls up the countdown onto the main screen and they all watch, as the seconds tick away. 'One minute, twenty eight seconds and counting.'

 _'Wait! That's it. Not a protoplasm, I think you have it, more a type of phosphorescence!'_ Jonesalmost lets go of the seat he is clinging to. 'What if it is similar to plant chlorophyll, you mentioned phosphorescence, Elenah, which is able to absorb light energy and then release it over time. If this entity is absorbing kinetic energy, transforming it into potential energy for use as a fuel for the missing structures of the cell, without that mechanism, it is simply storing the energy, unable to release it. You said something about it turning to a solid? It has to be the effect of all the potential energy it is storing.'

'Rather than turning it into a fuel, say, heat or in the case of phosphorescence, light, or releasing it as sugars in a plant. Your computation does fit the model we are presented with.' Numbers nods in agreement with Jones.

'And this helps because?'

'We need to find a way for the entity to dispel it's stored energy.' Swayla answers the Commander. 'Without using anything _with_ energy, so we can't fire our weapons at it!' She shakes in disappointment. They all watch and wait as the countdown nears ten seconds and the station slowly stops spinning. As they wait, objects start to float in the low gravity, each of them feeling the weightlessness in their limbs as the station slows and slows and then draws to a full stop just as the countdown reaches one.

Outside the entity stops, gently resting against the hull of the Bridge hub, as the strong pull of the station momentum dissipates into the vast stillness of space.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sirens**

Peator sighs at Worwynd's hot-headedness as he urges ZeaDar to try and corral the Squadron into a less dense area of the cloud. For some reason, the Quill is able to slowly manoeuvre without getting stuck. Peator checks in with the other pilots, then turns his attention to contacting Sentinel. It would take all his concentration to reach through the cloud and find the mind of the Commander. Despite many years of training, it is the third martial art, Far Eye, he has always found the hardest. Peator empties his mind and blurs his focus, allowing the fierce lines of concentration to slip from his brow as he looks for the Commander's thoughts.

'Commander Pierce, I am trying to manoeuvre the Squadron together, are you able to blast this cloud of whatever it is, to clear a path for us to escape through!'

'Ahh! _Peator!_ You are all alive? _Thank the stars!_ What channel are you on and I'll put you on the bridge comms! Is anyone else getting this?'

The rest of crew stare slightly bewilderedly as Commander Pierce suddenly starts talking to himself.

'There are no communication messages coming in?' Swayla asks, alarmed at the Commander's sudden imaginary conversation, wondering if the stress of the situation is too much for him.

Too late Pierce realises the voice he is hearing is not over his communicator.

'Peator?' he asks tentatively, 'Are you still there?'

'Yes, Commander, I am sorry I should have warned you, I am using one of my Master Arts, the Far Eye. To keep it a tactical advantage, I do not readily reveal I am able to reach into people's minds. But there seems no other way. Perhaps you could think your responses?'

The Commander shakes his head and announces to the crew and the cameras, 'I'm sorry I thought I heard something, must have just been interference from the entity!'

Peator watches the Commander's thoughts as he explains their reasoning about the nature of the entity and how it is at rest outside the space station.

'It would explain how ZeaDar can still move while the other craft are stuck fast, Quills are very greedy, it is consuming the cloud as foodstuff as fast as the cloud can convert the movement into energy. But if the cloud is as large as you say, Commander, it would take a great flock of Quills to eat through it and as far as I know, ZeaDar is the only one in this quadrant.'

Something occurs to the Commander and Peator smiles at the thought and retreats from his mind as Pierce swivels gently in the low gravity and quizzes Numbers on his idea.

'What if this entity was a.. a foodstuff? Like plankton in an ocean, which somehow ended up inside the wormhole, growing gargantuan without its natural predator to keep it under control? A sort of deep space algae bloom? All we need to do is find something to eat it faster than it can absorb energy.'

'Algae blooms? I have information on these phenomena, I shall scan the Borg database for a suitable creature...' But before Numbers can retrieve any information the viewscreen starts to expand further as remote cameras detect movement beyond the station and the entity.

 _'What is this now?'_ Swayla lets go of the handrail and floats towards the viewscreen, trying to make sense of what they are all seeing. Far off, deep into space are what appear to be ripples. As though a thread is being pulled in a cloth, distorting the distant stars and wrinkling their light. As the ripples move closer, what at first seemed to be a single wave is, in fact, a giant shoal of some kind of creature she has never seen before.

Numbers breaks the awed silence on the bridge by announcing, 'Ah, I have it, Commander, what we need are Star Sirens. A rare phenomenon, more myth than reality. But according to the database, theses ancient, roaming space creatures absorb energy, normally in form of starlight and convert it for their own use. There are stories of marooned spaceships being rescued by them as they pass by, in large shoals of...of...'

'Ripples?' Pierce asks pointing at the viewscreen. Numbers looks up from his scanning and watches for a moment, then nods.

'Yes, like ripples, Commander.'

The camera crew on board the bridge of Deep Space Sentinel keep filming as wave after wave of Star Sirens roll through space towards the entity. Across the Federation people watch in wonder as the first scientific sighting of this rare space creature is observed by millions. To begin with, they are barely visible but, as they near the cloud, their individual shapes can be seen.

 _'Like whales!'_ Jones exclaims as the barely visible hulks glide up to the cloud and engulf it.

Across the screen streaks of energy spark through the Sirens, illuminating them like lightening, as they absorb the energy stored in the entity. Soon the whole screen is bathed in the most extraordinary light, so intense the crew have to shield their eyes and look away. Then, almost as quickly as it started the light is gone and the viewscreen returns to normal. Where the entity had been is now only space and the squadron, grouped together in formation in front of the Bridge. The external monitors on the station track the departing Star Sirens as they move on, a great wave across the galaxy, leaving nothing but an aurora of light, gorgeous greens, golds and purples, in their wake.

The Commander watches the sirens depart, his mind filled with a sense of profound wonder. Clearly Deep Space Sentinel was going to be a whole new kind of experience as he smiles and shakes his head. He calls through to Engineering. 'Chief, can you fire Sentinel up and get us moving again?'

'Of course, Commander. Gravitational rotation underway.'


	8. Chapter 8

**Dinner**

The Galactic Gourmet restaurant is on the plaza level of one of the largest civilian hubs Sentinel has and Swayla T'Vayne nervously checks her reflection in the glass windows as she waits at their table for the rest to arrive. Her black hair is in its habitual neat bob and her trim figure is swathed in a Romulan water-silk gown in a deep shade of green. She checks the time again, only thirty-three minutes to go, where is everyone?

She glances out through the glass along the busy sweeping boulevard of the plaza, lined with bars and shops but there is no sign of the others yet and so she taps the menu button on the table and a rotating hologram of the dishes of the day float in front of her.

'Ah! Glad I'm not the only one who's early!' Swayla jumps slightly at the voice and turns to find the Chief Engineer Mixie at her shoulder, dressed in a simple silvery shift layered over a black Volelian bodysuit, her Volelian fur spritzed with a sparkling furspray.

'Chief.' Swayla inclines her head formally at the Volelian.

'Call me Mixie, us women should stick together on a night out and I'll call you..?' Mixie waits for the second-in-command to reply as Swayla blinks at her informality. 'Love your dress, is it Romulan water-silk? I've heard of the fabric but never seen it before. Now what do you think of my nails? I had them done especially.' Mixie wiggles a hand under Swayla's nose as sits she down next to Swayla and starts to peruse the hologram menu. 'Yummy, doesn't this look really yummy?'

Swayla stares at the Volelian's silver nails, completely taken aback by her informal nature.

'Yes, it is water-silk and your nails are very... and I am not sure I know what _yummy_ means.'

'Yummy? Old Earth word, means tasty. I've been learning loads of new words since I arrived here. My engineering crew are _very_ informative.' Mixie giggles and nudges Swayla in the ribs with her elbow, 'And not all of the words are appropriate for the dinner table! Now, what are we drinking?'

'The rest have not arrived yet, surely we should wait?' Swayla replies primly.

'Nonsense, they'll be ages yet... I'm just going to call you Swayla till I think of a nickname for you. Now, how about we see what cocktails they have? Ah, here we are, I'll order a couple of Juggernauts. Just the thing.' Mixie beams at Swayla and presses the order button for two cocktails. Already the station is beginning to feel like home and she has a feeling she and Swayla are going to be good friends.

Swayla stares at Mixie with a feeling of alarm. The evening is not going how she imagined it would. When Commander Pierce had suggested a formal dinner at the Galactic Gourmet as a thank you to his command crew for the inaugural resolve of Sentinel being a success, she presumed it would be a ceremonial occasion, not a...a 'night out', with juggernauts and yummy food. But before she can protest, the cocktails arrive and Mixie proposes a toast. 'To us, the brave and fearless crew of Deep Space Sentinel!' and she drinks her juggernaut down in one. Swayla, not wanting to insult Mixie by refusing her toast, follows suit, the fiery cocktail coursing down her throat and making her choke.

Quarter of an hour and two juggernauts later, Mixie and Swayla are deep in conversation about their day on board Sentinel and barely notice as Peator, Worwynd and Numbers arrive.

Peator bows courteously to the two Starfleet officers, resplendent in his ceremonial shoulder plumes, then offers a chair to Worwynd and Numbers. Worwynd sits and growls softly to herself, already uncomfortable in her Klingon ceremonial armour, she hadn't thought to wear an evening dress like the other two women! Numbers quietly sits and watches as the group order more drinks and talk of the day's events flows around him, a warm wave of words. When Elenah Mapletree arrives with Dr. Jones, all eyes in the restaurant are on her, her tall frame accentuated by a long, flowing midnight-blue gown, scattered with light-reflecting crystals and her silver hair flowing free, studded with small blue flowers.

By the time Commander Pierce arrives, the rest of the group are busy trying to decide what to order and the table is littered with an impressive array of empty juggernaut glasses. For a moment Pierce watches his command crew from a discreet distance, a look of surprise on his face. For some reason, they had all decided to wear formal dinner attire to the meal and he glances down at his jeans, casual shirt and sports shoes, far more suitable for a retro burger bar like the Galactic Gourmet. He checks on his Sentinel PDA to see the message invite he had sent and groans inwardly when he reads it.

'Invite to an in formal dinner at the Galactic Gourmet as a thank you for the successful inaugural resolve of Deep Space Sentinel' The autocorrect function had clearly been at work and changed 'informal' to 'in formal'. He glances up at his incongruously dressed crew and can't help but chuckle to himself. The only one who wasn't overdressed was Numbers, still in his Starfleet uniform.

Pierce buttons up his shirt and runs a hand over his hair, then joins his crew at their table.

'Commander, a bold choice of attire tonight?' Elenah raises an eyebrow at his clothes.

'Sorry, Elenah, I think my tuxedo is still in transit with the rest of my personal effects. So, have you all ordered?'

'Not yet, everything looks suspiciously like algae cake burgers.' Jones sighs. 'What made you choose this particular place for our meal anyway?' he asks, glancing around the restaurant suddenly noting the basic interior decor and ketchup dispensers at every table.

'Well, I checked up on the potato rumour.'

' _And_?' Jones asks, suddenly regaining his appetite.

'And, it's true, there are potatoes and this place is one of the first place to serve them. As chips.'

'Chips?' Peator asks, 'I am unfamiliar with this delicacy. Is it of animal origin, I am not permitted to eat flesh.'

 _'Chips!'_ Jones practically cheers. 'Don't worry Peator, it's a starchy root vegetable, fried in vegetable oil until it is crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside. A delicacy indeed!'

Commander Pierce sits between Numbers and Worwynd and, while waiting for the chips they all order to arrive, he turns to the Borg and asks why he's still in his uniform. He had hoped everyone would have a chance to relax and forget about Starfleet for an hour or two.

'I noticed a syntax error in your message, Commander and I computed the likelihood it was a mistake by the autocorrect function on your PDA, then computed the likelihood of everyone misreading and assuming the message was correct. I did not want to cause any discomfort by appearing in casual clothes instead of formal attire and so decided my uniform would cause least offence.'

Overhearing, Worwynd growls again, 'You mean we didn't have to wear our ceremonial clothes?'

'No, sorry, I think somewhere the message got a bit mixed up, as Numbers said... but, you all look very smart and I appreciate the effort.'

'So what kind of restaurant is this?' asks Mixie.

'Well, not really a restaurant, more of a retro burger bar.' Pierce is realising this could all go horribly wrong as it begins to dawn on them all how overdressed they are.

'Burger bar, as in a fast food outlet?' Elenah asks.

'Um, yes, you could call it that.' Pierce smiles, willing the chips to arrive.

'We have all got dressed up to the nines for a meal in a burger bar?' Elenah asks again.

For some inexplicable reason, the outrage Swayla T'Vayne was feeling at the thought of being completely inappropriately dressed for the occasion suddenly evaporates and all she can do is giggle helplessly at the silliness of the situation.

'Um...' But the Commander is saved from answering as the chips arrive and they are every bit as delicious as Jones imagined them to be. Soon all thought of the mix-up is forgotten as the chips are accompanied with good conversation and laughter late into the evening. After a while, it occurs to Pierce that, despite his misgivings, maybe Deep Space Sentinel would turn out to be a better posting than he had given it credit. He raises his glass and proposes a toast. 'Here's to Deep Space Sentinel and to whatever tomorrow will bring.'

'To Deep Space Sentinel!' they all reply.

'Would you like me to sing The Sentinel Song now?' Swayla asks and there is a unanimous chorus of _'No!'_ around the table and then, in perhaps the first time since being assimilated by the Borg, Numbers sees the funny side of the whole situation and almost smiles.


	9. Chapter 9

**Under Construction**

Despite the inaugural resolve ceremony, many of the civilian hubs are still nowhere near internal completion and it is Mixie's task, as Chief Engineer, to make sure the civilian contractors keep to their time scales and budgets. A section of the hubs are destined to be a city within the space station, providing a home for the civilian personnel required for manning a universal space port and more importantly, a base for colonising this new, uncharted sector of the universe. Mixie checks her schedule, she has to inspect a quadrant of new metro apartments which should be finished on the StarVale hub. The contractors, Makeship Inc. is one of the largest working on Sentinel and one with the largest amount of out-sourced workers, making it fraught with agency and union pay negotiations, wildcat strikes and working practises which often fall far short of Starfleet regulations.

The inter-lift doors open and Mixie steps out into what can only be described as chaos and not the tranquil, boulevard decks featured on the hologram ads promoting StarVale home ownership across the universe. She searches for the Makeship rep who should have met her but he is nowhere to be seen and so she starts to inspect the metro apartments on her own. Soon the list of fails is longer than the passes and it is clear the building work is way below minimum safety standards. The whole section of apartments would have to ripped out and started over. As far as Mixie could tell, the place was an accident waiting to happen.

Anger and annoyance are beginning to eat in to Mixie as she climbs through each apartment. It is clear Makeship Inc. has cut corners on quality to the detriment of safety and it is the kind of work ethic Mixie, as both a Volelian and a Starfleet Officer, finds abhorrent. She is about to give it up as a bad job and simply condemn the whole section, when the apartment she is in starts to shake and the sound of grinding, stressed alloys gives way to the loud roaring of a superstructure failure. Mixie tries to run out past the collapsing bulkheads with the rest of the workers but she is not quick enough and her way is blocked by falling subsections, crossbeams and mouldings. The chain of lights illuminating the apartments flickers and dims to nothing and Mixie is left, trapped in the dark.

She reaches for her flash light and shines the beam around the cramped space she finds herself in. She carefully inspects the ceiling and checks for any signs of instability but it looks secure enough, then she shines it on the wall of rubble blocking the exit. She tries to move some but it is solidly wedged tight. Mixie is about to use her communicator to call for an emergency teleportation rescue when a sound attracts her attention. Somewhere, near the base of a pile of fallen rubble, is the sound of tapping. Mixie crouches down to get nearer the sound, there is no doubt about it, a regular rhythm, three taps, a space and then three more taps. Mixie wonders how much air is left in the small space she is in as she carefully looks for two pieces of metal to tap a reply with. She finds a thin tube for running cabling and remembering the rolled up toolkit she carries with her at all times, she finds a suitable wrench and starts to tap back a reply.

The sound echoes dully in the cramped space and Mixie cannot work out if the tapping sound she is hearing is in reply to her or not. She remembers her communicator and calls the bridge. There is no reply. She tries engineering, again no reply. It looks as though she is well and truly stuck and she checks the time. No one would expect her back from the inspection for another hour. She sighs and starts tapping on the tube again. Hoping a construction worker on the other side might hear.

Numbers stops mapping the sector he is working on and glances over at Elenah, still engrossed in her work. He quietly switches his console from a map of a far constellation to the schematics of the space station and enters in his access code. He searches for the areas still under construction, enjoying seeing the way his designs are taking shape in reality. As he scans the new hubs his attention is caught by a strange tapping noise in StarVale, and as his mind connects and explores the sub-structural systems in that area he finds something is not right at all with that part of the hub. Something is, in fact, very wrong indeed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Atmospherics**

'Elenah, I have found a problem.'

'With the mapping software or with the sector of space?' Elenah is getting used to Numbers' finding ways to constantly improve the software they are using.

'With the station. There's a construction problem in the civilian hub.'

'Well, I think they have engineers working on that hub, Numbers. I know it's hard to let go but this is your work now.'

'No, not to do with my design. There's a problem within the construction. I am reading high levels of a mix of gases, almost like an atmosphere, venting _into_ the area but there is nothing there, just the StarVale hub. It makes no sense.'

'Like an atmosphere?' Elenah joins Numbers at his console and swiftly runs an eye over the figures displayed on the screen.

'Some of these gases are not present on the station normally. Look at this, this spike here. Then gone, now another one there.' Elenah is as puzzled as Numbers at the strange readings. 'This is a novel composition. I haven't come across this before…' Numbers continues, scanning through his database of the atmospherics associated with Starfleet construction sites.

'I think we should pass this one on to the Commander.' Elenah taps her coms button and asks for a secure link to Commander Pierce. 'I think we have found a new anomaly on Sentinel, Commander.'

'So soon after the last one?' Pierce replies, sounding slightly distracted.

'No, no this is very different.' It is a…is that an alarm I can hear?'

'Yes, there has been a collapse on one of the civilian construction hubs. No casualties so far but no one can track down the Chief Engineer so I'm heading out there now in her place.'

'The civilian hub in question, it wouldn't happen to be StarVale would it?' Elenah can feel the hairs on her neck prickle at the thought the collapse could be due to these new gas vents.

'Yes, it is. Guessing from your tone, your anomaly is out there too?'

'Yes, Commander, we are getting some very erratic atmospheric readings, as though a gas is being vented into the hub at random points but we don't know how. Numbers is trying to find a possible rationale but, it could be behind the collapse.'

Commander Pierce ends the call as he reaches StarVale. The place is in chaos. Sirens wail and lights blink on and off, chaotically lighting up the collapsed structures inside the hub. A whole section of apartments seems to have collapsed onto another. Pierce makes his way through the teams of construction workers clearing rubble and equipment to where he can see what looks like a makeshift command centre.

'Ah, Commander Pierce, thank you for coming, I was hoping it would be the Chief Engineer though. We could do with some of her technical expertise. I'm Brodale Soame, in control of construction out here for Makeship Inc.'

'We are trying to locate the Chief for you. Any casualties?' Pierce shakes Brodale's extended, fleshy hand, while all around is noise and confusion. Brodale is clearly not in control of much at the moment.

'No, we are under a strict three shift rotation quota, pay negotiations with the unions mean that today was a scheduled downtime. No one on site.'

'Have you had any unusual atmospheric readings at all in the last few hours?'

'Atmospherics? I have no idea! Hey, you! Get me Haalsen, she would know about climatics.'

Pierce steps back slightly as Brodale organises a group of construction workers, watching the way he works with growing unease. He had no idea the civilian side of Sentinel was so chaotic. No wonder the construction was suffering with delays. Brodale, now flushed in the face from yelling at his team, turns back to the Commander. 'Haalsen is our health and safety surveyor. She'll be the one with any readings!'

Haalsen's pager shrilly beeps into action as the alarm call for the collapse on StarVale is triggered. Geena Haalsen sleepily reaches for it on the small locker next to her bunk pod. She blearily opens her eyes and reads the message, only to be jolted wide awake by the message. 'Structure collapse StarVale, immediate assist required.' She leaps from her bunk and scrunches her shoulder length hair into a company hard hat, pulling a safety suit up over the t-shirt and jog-pants she was sleeping in and, after grabbing a bottle of 'FruityNutri' from the drinks dispenser in the canteen, jogs to the nearest inter-lift. A few minutes later she is at the StarVale hub, staring in shock at the chaos all around.

Numbers checks the readings again. There is something very strange going on in StarVale. 'I should get these readings to the science officer.'

'You can just send those readings up to the bridge. The science officer can deal with them. Now back to work Numbers, the universe won't map itself!' Elenah firmly reminds the young Borg of his duties and Numbers nods in agreement and routes the information to the bridge.

Swayla T'Vayne stands, legs slightly apart, hands clasped behind her back, surveying the crew on the bridge from her vantage point near the science officer's console. It was nice to have the bridge to herself, while the Commander deals with the commotion out on StarVale, now the sirens have been silenced, it feels as though she really is in charge. As she watches a file arrives onscreen from Numbers, blinking URGENT in the corner of the Science Officer's console. 'Officer Tidmarth, please open the file!' Swayla commands, unable to comprehend how often humans can ignore the word 'Urgent' on files.

The science officer on duty quickly opens the file with a flick of her index finger over the screen and a list of chemical compounds scrolls down the screen.

'Atmospheric readings Mam, from… from inside the space station… but that doesn't make any sense?' Tidmarth points to a few of the compounds. 'These appear to be new gases… this is most irregular. It appears we have pockets of a highly unstable new atmosphere being created… created in the StarVale hub!'

'In the civilian hub? Could it be responsible for the collapse?'

'Mam, without plotting the atmosphere pockets against the area of collapse it's hard to know… they appear to be randomly generating across the area, we should let the Commander know. The construction workers will need breathing apparatus for some of this…'

'I shall let the Commander know. You work out how this could be happening.'


End file.
